On a Hot Summer Night
by Awen Sofer
Summary: When there's no relief from the heat, the clothes come off and it only gets hotter. A sexy little one shot about what happens one hot summer night between roommates. OC/AU


Damn it was hot. Despite the fact it was nighttime, it was still hotter than the seven fires of hell. Miya sat in the window wearing nothing but a plain white t-shirt and her panties. She had a fan blowing on her but it only moved the hot air around and offered no refreshing cool air. The humidity was stifling and made it hard to breathe. She had twisted her long brown hair into a bun to get it off of her sweaty neck. Reaching into her glass of ice water, she caught an ice cube between her fingers to drag it out and suck on it. Just ten minutes ago it had been a glass full of nothing but ice. Her body tensed when she heard the door open. Her roommate was home. She should get up and get more clothes on, but it was too hot. If he wanted to yell at her, he could just gripe until his heart was content. She had received many lectures from him for such a silly thing as coming out of the bathroom in a towel after her shower. He seemed to have an aversion to the female body, but he had never brought a boyfriend home either so she was not sure where he stood sexually. Such a prude.

"Miya? What are you doing sitting in the dark?" Ichigo asked, walking into her bedroom.

"It's hot. The light bulbs put off heat," she answered, turning to look at him. He was dressed in a suit complete with tie since he had just arrived home from work. "Aren't you hot?"

"Hell yeah, I'm hot," he replied vehemently, dropping his briefcase and loosening his tie.

Jokingly she suggested,"Then take off your clothes. Come sit with me."

There was no way he would ever do that. Ichigo could be such a super serious stick in the mud. Miya could not think of a moment when he has ever let loose and relaxed. In the two years they have lived together, she's seen him smile on very rare occasions and heard him laugh on even rarer occasions. Sometimes she felt like walking straight up to him and massaging his permanently furrowed brow to relax the overworked muscles. He always appeared to be angry or deep in thought. He was quiet and somber except for the frequent times he lost his temper with his friends, especially a redhead named Renji. However, even his fits of anger had a semblance of control and purpose.

"Miya, what the hell are you thinking?" he groused with indignation tainting his voice.

"It's just to get cool, you idiot. Don't let your imagination get carried away." Turning her head to look out the window as he stomped out of her room she mumbled, "Assuming you have an imagination."

Miya grabbed the blanket from her bed and crawled out onto the fire escape. She folded it to fashion a slightly cushioned area to lie on the metal bars to make a more comfortable perch.

"Miya! Where are you?" Ichigo yelled, walking into her room.

"I'm out here!" she hollered back. Damn the neighbors. Let them call the cops or the superintendent.

"What are you doing out there? You truly are insane," he muttered condescendingly.

"Well, just stay in there and I'll enjoy this breeze all by myself," she retorted cattily, lying down on her makeshift pallet.

"Dammit," he grumbled then awkwardly clambered out of the window. Height had been to his disadvantage for the precarious journey to the fire escape.

Miya raised her head to look at him. She audibly gasped when she saw he was wearing nothing but a pair of white boxers with thin blue stripes on them.

"What? I took a cue on dress code from you," he quipped, gracing her with the gift of one of his exceptional smiles. He lay down on his belly next to her.

Wow! Sarcasm with a smile! What had she done to deserve this blessed event?

"Does that mean I can take my shirt off?" she teased, giggling from the shocked expression on his red face.

Ichigo recovered quickly and shrugged. "If you want to," he remarked offhandedly.

Miya reached over him to grab her glass from the window sill. She expected him to wiggle and unleash a hateful comment when her breasts pressed against his back but neither happened.

"Ah, dammit," Ichigo hissed when some of the frigid condensation dripped from the glass onto his back on her way across him.

Miya did not bother to apologize but took a big gulp of water. "Want some?" she offered, pushing the glass at him.

He surprised her by taking it and drinking from it. He was usually always so picky about things like that. Drinking after someone would have been a horrifying concept for him to think about. Once she had gotten yelled at by him for using one of _his_ clean, unused glasses from the kitchen. Everything in the apartment from dishes to towels were demarcated as his and hers. No sharing whatsoever of anything. He did not use her things and if she dared to touch his...well, sometimes it was like living with her father due to all of the parental chastising that occurred on an almost daily basis. However, he was neat, clean, on time with the rent, a good cook, and stayed out of her business. Despite all of his bitching and complaining, there was something he liked about her too so they continued their living arrangement.

Miya lay down on her back, looking up at the stars. She turned her head to see that he was staring at her. "What?" she inquired, looking into his dark brown eyes. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Yes, freckles," he responded with a smile curling his lips. Had he been drinking? Had he lost his mind? It was the heat! The heat had driven him completely insane. They had been living together for two years, and he had just now noticed she had freckles? Moron.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, rolling onto her side and propping up on her elbow to return his inquisitive gaze. "You're being extremely…not you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No it's wonderful! It's just –"

"Aw, gee thanks!" he scoffed, turning onto his side to face her without taking his eyes off of her. He cupped her jaw with his big hand, brushing his thumb over her freckled cheek. "It's just what?"

"You're being so different," she answered, moving closer to him. Her eyes traveled over his tanned and well-built chest that she had never seen except under the occasional tight t-shirt the whole time they had lived together. She smiled when she thought about what a stickler he was for modesty. He went into the bathroom dressed, took his shower, and came out fully dressed in his clean clothes – ALWAYS. He would yell at her for walking around in a bra and panties. She would yell back for him to pretend they were at the beach and it was a bikini.

"Do you like me better this way?" He slid his hand down her neck, his eyes roaming further downward to see that her nipples were poking through the thin material of her cotton t-shirt. She was not cold that was for damn sure.

"Maybe," she replied, flopping onto her back to look at the stars again. She closed her eyes and willed herself to breathe slowly.

The image of the soft longing look in his brown eyes would not leave her brain. Damn! When did he get so sexy and why the hell did he hide it? If he had been like this from the beginning they would be sharing a bed and not just an apartment. Miya opened her eyes when something cold and wet dripped on her lips and ran across her cheek. She blinked in confusion when she saw his hand hovering above her face. Anther cold, wet drop touched her lips which parted slightly after the contact. Closing her eyes, she opened her lips a little more to allow the water to dribble into her mouth from the rapidly melting ice cube held between his fingers. It was a strangely intimate gesture that made her body tingle with each drop that touched her tongue. She sighed loudly without meaning to. Hearing the ice cubes clinking against the sides of the glass, she opened her eyes to look at him. He was taking a long sip of the water, then put the glass down before moving toward her. A loud moan was stifled between their mouths when he pressed his cool, damp lips to hers and shoved his frigid tongue into her mouth along with an ice cube.

Oh, god, this was not the way to cool down from high temperatures. Ichigo was only causing the heat to rise not only on the outside but the inside of her as well. He had confirmed he was not gay. He had also confirmed he was a very good kisser. Miya's hands pressed against the silky, hairless golden skin stretched over his muscled chest as he hovered above her. Her hand glided down his chest and across his ridged abdomen. She gasped when his water dampened hand cupped her breast and his thumb raked across the hard sensitive nipple under the cotten fabric.

"Want me to stop?" he asked, pulling his hand and his lips away.

Dammit!

"No, not at all," she whispered, unable to speak louder. Her eyes held his and she could feel her body trembling as his fingers slid over her exposed hip bone and under the edge of her shirt. She bit her lower lip, holding back a moan as his smooth fingertips glided up her body leaving a trail of goosebumps and over-sensitive flesh behind. A gasp passed her lips when his thumb stroked over the nipple this time skin to skin; the exciting contact made her want him desperately. Her hand that was resting against his belly moved lower until her fingers pressed against the waistband of his boxers.

"Please, please touch me," he begged breathlessly when she hesitated.

His wish was her command and her fingers pressed into his skin to wedge themselves beneath the elastic. He was long and hard, pulsing in the palm of her hand as her fingers wrapped around his member. The glassy, sex starved expression in his chocolate colored eyes made her want to rip off the thin material separating them. The guttural, untamed groan he emitted when she tugged on him caused a flow of arousal from her body. Raising up slightly when he pulled at the hem of her t-shirt, she removed her hand from him so he could take off her shirt. Miya clawed at the top of his shorts, hooking her fingers over the elastic and pushing down. She cried out his name when his head lowered to her breast and his wet tongue lapped across her nipple. Her arms enclosed his broad shoulders as he sucked gently while removing his underwear for her. Trying to rid her body of the last offending piece of clothing between them, she was surprised when he pushed her hands away.

"I'll do it," he said, kissing her lips briefly.

Miya lay back on the blanket, staring at the twinkling stars above as his lips pressed tiny kisses down her neck. Each kiss brought him closer to her breast where he kissed the firm peak of pink flesh before running his tongue over it. Giving each nipple a kiss in turn, he then proceeded the bathe them with his tongue until her fingers were in his orange spikes, pulling his hair and calling his name.

"Ichigo, I need more," she pleaded with him, raising his hips to brush her damp womanhood against his belly that was laying against her between her legs.

"Be patient. You'll have it," he whispered, kissing her neck.

Miya groaned from frustration and pleasure simultaneously as his hands roamed her body along with his lips. She had indulged in the occasional sexual fantasy about her handsome roommate but had never imagined it might actually happen. Every muscle in her body seemed to contract with anticipation when his finger hooked over the edge of her bikini panties and pulled downward. She raised her hips, lifting both of them up so he could push the material over her behind and down her legs. Biting her lower lip, she waited for them to finally be gone as the soft fabric scraped over her calves. At last they were gone and she was naked. She whimpered with aroused expectation as his fingers moved up her inner thigh, pushing apart her legs.

"Oh, god," she gasped, opening her legs wide for him when his fingers slid between her lower lips.

"So wet and so damn hot," he murmured, his fingers slipping into her wanting body with ease. His lips covered hers to muffle her moans as he pushed his fingers into her.

Miya wanted him inside of her. She begged for him but he told her no, continuing to slide his fingers in and out of her rhythmically. Her body shuddered when his lips enclosed one of her nipples again. She trembled helplessly beneath his lips when they touched her belly above her naval. Her fingers twisted into his soft wild hair as it brushed across her belly and tickled slightly when he moved lower to position himself between her legs.

"Ichigo!" she cried out when his lips encased another hard protuberance on her body.

Writhing beneath his mouth, she pressed the back of her hand to her lips to prevent herself from screaming out his name. Her teeth sank into her skin as she struggled not to lose her mind when his tongue slid inside of her where his fingers had been earlier. He was going to kill her with pleasure or at the very least drive her insane. She moved her hand and gritted her teeth, her fingers grasping at the material of the blanket beneath her as his tongue and lips continued to push her to the limit of carnal bliss. Miya held on as long as she could before the orgasm happened with an explosion of pleasure that temporarily made her lose control of her motor function. She could feel his hand pressed against her belly while the other gripped her thigh to hold her down as his tongue continued to work over her sending subsequent bursts of pleasure through her entire body.

"Please, please, stop," she implored him, her body continuing to shake violently with each new wave of ecstasy induced by his mouth. Attempting to catch her breath, she panted as he raised up onto all fours above her.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his eyes half lidded with a sex starved expression.

Miya nodded mutely, putting her hands on his waist as he lowered himself into her. She watched his handsome face relax and his mouth drop open to emit a noisy sigh of satisfaction as he slid into her. Oh, god, he felt great! She appreciated the fact that he was taking his time to make her feel every inch of his amazing manhood, but she was ready to be screwed into a coma by the unbelievable lover she had found. All this time...if she had only known... It's quite possible they would have lost their lease due to noise complaints. She cried out his name in a howl when he pulled back his hips before thrusting deep inside of her with a surprising yet pleasure inducing force. Her hands moved downward to grab his behind as he began pushing into her with unbridled speed and strength making her feel as if she was being ridden by a horse. Rough and unrefined, almost violent, his lovemaking was a far cry from his reserved, cool, and always firmly controlled appearance. Although his temperamental outbursts might be controlled, there was none sexually. And she liked it.

"Miya," he breathed before kissing her lips. His strokes became long and slow, making her cry out with each solid stop at the end of the downward thrust before he pulled back to do it again.

Miya pressed her forehead against his chest, feeling his heart beating furiously between her eyes. She heard his breathing become deeper and faster just before his hip movements became shorter and increased in speed again. Her hands gripped his sides and she felt his body quake violently letting her know he was close. She wanted it. More than anything she wanted to feel him erupt inside of her and watch him lose his grip on his mind and his body. It would be gratifying to see the control freak let go of his strict self-mastery even for a moment. Opening her eyes, she studied him as he squeezed his eyes shut and pistoned into her until she could feel the bars of the fire escape against her back through the thick blanket. An expression something akin to pain pinched his face up tight and caused his lips to peel back from his clenched teeth as if he were in excruciating physical agony.

"Oh, god, Ichigo!" she cried out, her fingernails sinking into his brawny shoulders as an unexpected second orgasm tore through her body and obliterated her senses.

Struggling to fight against the tide of physical bliss threatening to drown her, the sound of his primal moan prompted her to open her eyes. Just as their eyes locked, he let go with a yell. Miya held onto him as he jerked and groaned, shooting deep inside of her to give her what she wanted. Her arms enclosed his body around his shoulders when he slowly lowered himself down on top of her. Despite the heat and the sweat that ran down their bodies, they lay together in each other's arms waiting for the intoxicating state of sexual elation to subside before moving. When he could move at last, Ichigo rolled off of her. Just as she was about to feel abandoned by him, she felt his hand clutch hers. A smile curled her lips upward as she stared at the night sky still unable to move.

And that is the kind of improbable and pleasureable event that can happen on a hot summer night.


End file.
